The Home Front
by jibbsloversunited
Summary: Gibbs learns to pay attention to things a little closer to home. A Jibbs AU by Morgan72uk
1. Chapter 1

A.N. - I wanted to write some fluff because well Dusk isn't exactly fluffy so... And then _someone_ demanded I post it, when it was going to be posted all together as a one-shot. Hoping not to spend too long over this. Enjoy!

Disclaimer - I don't own them, because if I did things would be quite different.

**T****he Home Front**

Gibbs hadn't been home a lot lately – case had flowed seamlessly into case, keeping him at the Navy Yard long into the night and over the weekends. He'd lost track of the time somewhere along the way and summer had slipped into fall – the leaves were turning golden and bronze, the air was a little more chill in the evenings and it was getting dark earlier. The year would be over before he knew it and he wasn't sure that he could bring himself to care.

If he were honest it was easier not to notice, to pay attention to witnesses and forensics rather than his own life; easier not to think about the good woman enjoying her retirement in Hawaii and knowing that neither of them needed to be alone if only he had been able to open up a little, to meet her half way.

Still, he took it as a personal affront to his investigative skills that he had failed to notice that the house next door to his had been sold. It took the large van filled with furniture outside before he realised what was happening.

But he was on his way into work so the comings and goings of his neighbours was of little concern. He asked only that they weren't noisy when he was at home and, given his working hours, even that wasn't too much of a demand.

The case his team had been working was wrapped up by the time he had finished his second cut of coffee, the reports written up by mid afternoon. In a surprising fit of gratitude at the rapid and discrete conclusion to a case that could have been a cross-jurisdictional nightmare, Director Vance sent the team home for some rest. As a result it was barely five when he pulled back onto his drive.

The van was still there – though by the looks of it almost empty now. There was no sign of the team of house movers who should go along with the van, but an elderly man was leaning against the open back, cradling a cup of coffee as he looked around him.

"Need a hand?" Gibbs asked, nodding to the couch still inside the van.

"I would – but there are four guys inside drinking my daughter's coffee who we're paying to finish the job."

"i won't interfere then." As he turned towards his house the man said,

"Marine?" and Gibbs turned back – taking in his short haircut, the way he was standing.

"Army?" He offered in response.

"Jasper Shepard, retired from US Army quite a while ago now."

"Jethro Gibbs – once a Marine,"

"Always a Marine – I know." Gibbs put him in his seventies, but he looked lean and fit and if he was any judge the man had been an officer – perhaps a senior one. But Gibbs liked the way he hadn't offered his rank.

"It's a good house," he offered at last, nodding towards the house that was a little larger than his – with, if he remembered rightly, a slightly smaller garden.

"Seems to be – my daughter set her heart on it. I don't see what was wrong with living with me for a few more years but she made her mind up."

"Sounds determined."

"Stubborn more like." Shepard finished his coffee, "I'd best get back – make sure she isn't scaring the removals team. Good to meet you Jethro – I guess I might see you around."

Gibbs watched him wander into the house and then headed inside himself, to spend some much overdue time with his boat.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - thanks for the reviews. I'm glad you are enjoying the fluff.

**Part 2**

As it happened his new neighbours didn't trouble him too much over the next few weeks – or he them. He wasn't around enough to do more than notice that sometimes there was a sleek silver car parked on the drive and on other occasions an older car took its place. Occasionally he heard car doors slamming and the sound of footsteps going to or from the house. But he never saw anyone and all he knew about his new neighbour was that she wore heels.

But he had other things to think about and it wasn't the twists and turns of an investigation. Mossad had tried to recall Ziva and it had taken considerable maneuvering and negotiations to keep her in DC. Diplomatic skills were not exactly his forte so he had needed to persuade Vance that she was an asset worth calling in a few favours for. He'd succeeded in the end – but he had no doubt that the Director would extract his pound of flesh in return.

Fighting to keep Ziva with them had made it very difficult to ignore what was on the verge of happening between her and DiNozzo. He had been pretending not to notice the way things were changing for a while now – though turning a blind eye went against all of his instincts. Personally he was wary of relationships between fellow agents and having fought to keep Ziva here, he didn't want DiNozzo to be the reason she had to be transferred to another team.

Ducky's suggestion was that he should carry on pretending not to know – leaving them alone to sort it out for themselves. But Ducky had more faith in DiNozzo's maturity that he did and though Gibbs thought that a good woman would be the making of his senior field agent it was more than a little irritating that he seemed to have chosen one of his team-mates for the role.

He'd only come home for a shower and a change of clothes, his mind was on the situation with the team. Working out what to do about the impact on the team dynamic was not something he enjoyed. If ever there was a need for a complicated case to give them all something else to think about it was now.

His mind was dragged abruptly away from that topic when something solid impacted with his shin. "Uh oh," a little voice said.

He looked down to find a pair of big blue eyes gazing up at him as though he was a giant out of a fairy tale and she was in big trouble. Her auburn curls bobbed as she scrambled off the little tricycle that she'd ridden into him and wrapped her arms around his leg, kissing the place she had hit to make it better as someone had evidently taught her to do.

"Thank you," he said as her chubby little fingers grabbed hold of his pants.

"Lucia!" The young woman hurried towards them and picked the child up with ease, clucking mildly as she squirmed in her grasp until she gave way to giggles when she was tickled. "I'm sorry senor," she said. "She didn't hurt you?"

He shook his head, before pointing out, "her driving needs work."

"No-no, no-no," Lucia chanted before babbling away in a largely incomprehensible manner of small children that was somehow still utterly charming. She must have been about three – curious about the world around her and not afraid of anything in it. She fidgeted some more, kicking her legs to be put down.

"You live next door?" He asked – curious in spite of himself, since the woman and the child shared no colouring or features. He didn't think this was Jasper Shepard's daughter and though this was a good area, it wasn't smart or expensive. The people who lived here worked hard but they generally didn't have nannies or housekeepers. He didn't believe in guessing, but his instincts told him that was who she was.

"I look after the house and Lucia some of the time, when her mother has to work."

Lucia toddled over to him and patted his leg, "all better," she told him. He bent down to her level.

"Hi Lucia, I'm Gibbs," she scrunched her face up with what might have been concentration and then utterly failed to get his name right.

"Gwibbs," she tried.

"Close enough." He looked up towards her companion, "good to meet you...?"

"Noemi,"

Lucia was scrambling back on to her tricycle – looking as though she was ready to head off on her next adventure. "Good luck keeping up with her."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N - thanks for the reviews. I promise normal service will be resumed once I get the fluff out of my system. I just wanted to write something happy - without a multi-layered plot that I had to think about all the time.

**Part 3**

It was Saturday, he had no case and the sun was shining which was pleasant, even if he intended to bury himself in his basement with his boat and just savour the silence.

He'd already passed on an invitation from Abby to a 'Brain Matter' concert. She'd pouted a little, told him that she was worried that he didn't have fun anymore and looked frankly unconvinced by his explanation that being on his own, away from the noise of the team was as close to fun as he got these days.

Actually, he wasn't entirely convinced about that himself. He knew he was working a little too hard to persuade himself that his solitary weekend was what he wanted and needed and he had a lingering sense of time passing him by; slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

The introspection would be dampened by the soothing rhythm of working on his boat and if that failed, by the bourbon. He didn't need to think that he might just be a little lonely – because admitting that implied he could do something to change and that was where things got complicated.

He took another look at bright morning sunshine as it flooded his back garden, downed the remains of his coffee and reached for his car keys. He needed lumbar and the yard was open.

But he wasn't the only person in the house.

Lucia was standing in the hall, the front door wide open behind her as she looked around – apparently enchanted by the idea of having a whole new place to explore.

"You know you don't live here," he told her. Her only response was to smile, wave and say loudly

"Gwibbs!"

"Where's you mom, or Noemi? He asked stepping towards her.

"Mama," she told him, which wasn't all that helpful. He thought someone was probably close by, she was wearing a pretty green dress; her hair was brushed and tied back with a pink bow. She hadn't been away from adult supervision for long enough to get grubby.

"Shall we find her?" He asked offering her his hand. She considered this for a moment.

"Mama," she decided, before taking his hand and letting him lead her outside.

She hadn't wandered far – that's if the slim red head arguing with a guy in a red sports car was mama and something told him she was.

He watched their body language for a moment – they were arguing, but not shouting. The guy in the car was waving his hands around – visibly agitated while the red head looking as though she was struggling not to lose her temper – he could almost see the way she was reining herself in. Something about the way she was holding herself told him she wasn't in any danger, she wasn't feeling threatened, she didn't need his assistance. But he couldn't stand here all day.

"I think you lost someone," he said – loudly enough to be heard over their voices.

"Oh God – Lucia!" She turned at his words and stepped towards them as she realised what had happened. He sucked in a quick breath, because if Lucia grew up to look like her mother keeping boys away was going to be a full time occupation.

"Mama!" She picked the little girl up and hugged her close.

"What have I told you about running off?" She asked – a question that met with wide blue eyes and tiny fingers patting her face to try to turn her lips into a smile. "Where was she?"

"Just in my hall, front door wasn't locked. She wandered in."

"I'm so sorry, thanks for bringing her back." He could see that she was upset, that she felt guilty and Lucia's face fell as she picked up on that mood. She hiccuped, looked confused and it seemed she was on the verge of tears. "It's OK," her mother crooned, rocking her in her arms. "I'm not cross, you just scared me." The little girl curled into her mother's embrace – which was probably just a little too tight.

Unbidden a memory rose of Kelly wandering off at a similar age and how he and Shannon had been frantic until they'd found her in the back garden.

"She's fine," he told her, "she was gone for seconds."

"It only takes seconds," she hugged the child closer and he couldn't in good conscience argue with her.

"What happened?" The man from the sports car asked as he approached them.

"She wandered off," she told him shortly.

"She do that a lot?"

"She's curious and she doesn't completely understand about strangers." The woman replied, "you try keeping an eye on her for 24 hours a day."

"I guess I'll find out, " he held out his arms to Lucia, "hey pumpkin, you going to come to daddy?" She scrambled happily into his arms and for a moment he held her as though he feared she would explode.

"You'll be OK?" Lucia's mother asked.

"If I'm not I promise to call. Lucia – say bye to mama," She pressed a soft kiss to her daughter's head and then kissed her tiny nose before stepping away.

"You should get going."

"Bye!" Lucia announced in piercing tones as she went with her father to the car and he strapped her into the seat at the back. Gibbs couldn't help but wave at her and she responded by waving back.

"You OK?" He asked her mother as the car pulled away.

"She's never stayed with him over night before," she replied, her eyes on the car until it disappeared from sight. He didn't reply to that – but she didn't seem to expect him to say anything, wasn't even sure she was really talking to him.

She spent a moment longer looking at the now empty street and then he could see her shake off the mood. She turned to look at him, a small smile playing across lips that were too tempting even when she wasn't smiling. 'Well, now that I've impressed you with how bad a mother I am ..." she held her hand out, "Jenny Shepard."

"Gibbs." He offered in return. Her hand felt warm and smooth in his and it took him a moment to realise that neither of them was pulling away. As a consequence the handshake lasted more than just a beat too long. Slowly he let go of her hand – the flicker of regret quickly overtaken by warmth and light. He didn't try to analyse it, just let himself enjoy the moment of a burgeoning attraction.

"I'll see you around," he said at last, his eyes taking in every detail of her transition from concerned mother to a woman who'd felt the same surge of chemistry he had.r

"That would be nice," she answered as their eyes met and the pull was a little more intense than he'd expected. This was going to be interesting he decided - a clear case of being careful what you wished for.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A/N - thanks for the reviews - here's more fluff!

**Part 4**

For the second time that day he was the victim of a home invasion – and for the second time it wasn't exactly unwelcome.

"Like mother like daughter?" He said as he emerged from the basement to find Jenny Shepard standing in his hallway.

"I did knock, but no one answered," she replied, "and the door was open."

"Yeah," he leaned against the wall watching her. The hours since their first encounter had done nothing to change her effect on him. He watched the way her hair fell over her shoulders, let his eyes travel over her body, down long legs encased in jeans.

He liked the fact that she didn't back down at his scrutiny and he really liked the fact that she'd taken the initiative. "I brought you something to say thanks for being so good about my very own tiny house breaker," she offered him a bottle of wine, his fingertips brushing hers as he took it from her hand.

"You drink bourbon?" He asked putting the bottle onto a table.

"I've been known to."

"Bourbon's in the basement," he told her – heading back down the stairs without waiting to see if she would follow, though the sound of her heels on the basement stairs wasn't exactly a surprise.

"Is your first name Noah by any chance?" She asked as she nodded towards the hull of the boat.

"Nope," he dumped a collection of brushes out of a mason jar and poured a slug of bourbon into it – handing it to her. He felt better, whether it was the hours spent working on the boat or the woman he wasn't prepared to say. So he went back to his sanding, watching out of the corner of his eye as she looked around her. "Did you talk to Lucia?"

"Told her a bedtime story over the phone. She's fine," her smile was just a little wistful, "and she'll be back bright and early tomorrow morning – probably very bright and very early."

"That what you and your ex were fighting about?"

"Negotiating – not fighting," he couldn't help noticing that she had corrected his description of the argument he'd witnessed, but left his description of the man alone. "Lucia was supposed to spend the whole weekend with him – but he has something on tomorrow, so he's bringing her back early." The tension had crept into her face and she took a quick swallow of her drink. He was still watching her as she looked up – the question in his eyes one she chose to answer. "He's something of a reluctant father – he loves her, but he'd prefer not to have to look after her."

He didn't know what to say to that – it sounded complicated. "I wanted kids, he didn't. He gave in because it made me happy but then when I was pregnant he started to freak out and then when she was born,"

"He couldn't handle it?" She shook her head, her gaze skittering away from him and he hesitated wary of pressing her more.

"He left when she was two months old – it's taken me this long to persuade him that he should be more than an occasional presence in her life. I'm not sure I'm making all that much progress."

He didn't know how she'd coped, but he guessed she'd had no choice – small babies were demanding and they didn't wait around while their parents sorted themselves out. He guessed she blamed herself but he wasn't planning to ask her that – just as he didn't need to ask her if she regretted her choice. You only had to see her with her daughter to know the answer to that.

"How'd you manage?"

"She was so tiny, she needed me – I took care of her, my dad took care of everything else. My team was great as well."

"Your team?"

"They're a little odd but amazing in a crisis; I'm with Homeland Security – profiling and intelligence unit."

He should have been surprised and perhaps irritated, but some sense he barely recognised had pegged her for a cop or a Fed so instead he asked, "you ever work with Tom Morrow?"

"I report to Deputy Director Morrow." He wondering how 'odd' her team really was and how Morrow dealt with them. "Are we done with the interrogation Special Agent Gibbs?" He tilted his head at her and she failed to hide her smile, "come on – you don't think I brought a house for my daughter and I without checking out who my neighbours were?"

He couldn't fault the instinct, "I take it your investigations revealed I lived alone?"

"I believe that piece of information came from Noemi via one of your other neighbours." He grinned at that – imagining how his neighbours had described him – she smiled back and the companionable moment hovered on the brink of becoming something more.

"It wasn't as interrogation," he told her, "I was trying to flirt – apparently not that well."

She shook her head slightly and then said ruefully, "it's been a while since anyone flirted with me – could be I've forgotten how it goes."

"Sounds like we both need the practice," he offered.

She smiled and finished her drink. "I should get back."

"Enjoying the peace and quiet?"

"The house is empty without her." He watched her head to the stairs, swallowing his drink for something he refused to identify as dutch courage.

"You eaten?" The question stopped her at the foot of the stairs; she looked back over her shoulder at him and shook her head. "The takeout menus are upstairs." A hint of a smile curled over her lips as she turned back to face him.

"That wouldn't be an invitation to dinner would it?" At his single nod she said, "wow, you really do need practice at this."

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

A/N - thanks for the reviews.

**Part 5**

"She OK?" Gibbs asked into his phone as he stepped away from his desk, out of earshot of his team.

"She's miserable and a bit clingy." Jenny replied, "she'll be fine, but I don't want to leave her so..."

"Dinner's off?" He asked.

"Rain check?"

"Count on it." It was due to have been their fifth date; so far they'd shared coffee early one morning, managed dinner twice and one Sunday afternoon they'd taken Lucia to the park to feed the ducks.

In all honesty he was having a good time. Jenny was a beautiful woman – smart, amusing, driven but with the ability to turn it off and appreciate the other important things in life.

They'd talked a little about their teams and he'd concluded that her people were _far _stranger than his. It sounded a lot as though Homeland Security had brought together a group of extremely bright, extremely unconventional people and given her the job of keeping them in line for long enough to catch the bad guys.

As crazy as it sounded, in the weird world of intelligence it seemed to work and from what she'd said they were given a lot of latitude to do things their own way. Tom Morrow wasn't known for backing losers after all.

There were enough photos in her den of Lucia with people who looked nothing like federal agents to confirm what she'd said about her team stepping up to help her out when Lucia's father left. Which, would have been enough to convince him them they were good people, even if he hadn't learn long ago not to judge by appearances.

The similarity of their jobs was a starting point – but it wasn't the reason he was enjoying getting to know her. There was also the teasing, flirting and the quiet peacefulness of some of the time they spent together. The increasingly passionate kisses they'd been sharing didn't hurt either.

Spending time with Lucia wasn't exactly a chore – the little girl was a ray of sunshine and she seemed to have cheerfully accepted his presence in their lives. He felt lighter somehow, the two new women in his life giving him a reason for optimism.

All of which made him reluctant to give up on the idea of their date.

As he looked around the bullpen later that evening and contemplated an evening on his own – it really wasn't a difficult decision to make.

"If you can't come to the date," he said as Jenny opened her front door. He held up the bag of take away food he'd picked up on the way over.

She smiled at him, "getting romantic in your old age Gibbs?"

"Nah – can't a guy bring his new neighbour dinner?"

Before Jenny could reply a someone said, "Mama," and a familiar curly head peeped out from behind her mother's legs.

"Look who's come to see us," Jenny said, smoothing back Lucia's curls, "are you going to say hello?"

"I'm poorly," she told Gibbs matter of factly, "cuddle?" It would have taken a heart of stone to say no to the little girl standing there; dressed in blue pyjamas, clutching a teddy bear who had seen better days.

"I guess if you're poorly," he said – lifting her up.

"Well, Lucia seems glad you came by."

"What about Lucia's mother?"

"She's waiting until later to express her appreciation. We're watching a DVD and then it's someone's bed time," she took the bag from him. "You OK with her while I put the food in the oven to keep warm?"

"Well, I think she's just wiped her nose on my shirt,"

"It's a sign of affection," Jen said as he followed her inside, Lucia and teddy still in his arms.

"That was Boris," a little voice said, "he's poorly too." Boris, he gathered, was the bear.

Lucia had flaked out after about 20 minutes of the DVD and while Jenny had put her to bed, he'd served dinner. Now they were the ones curled up on the couch – supposedly watching the news but in reality far too aware of each other to be concentrating on anything else.

He nuzzled gently at a spot on her neck that he'd discovered was sensitive on a previous exploration. She shivered at his touch and his grip tightened on her hip. Then, so easily he almost forgot how new this truly was, she turned her head towards him and he lowered his lips to hers. She shifted, turning in his arms to get better access and his hands moved restlessly up and down her sides.

Things got a little heated after that, the kisses taking on a distinctly feverish air and hers wasn't the only shirt whose buttons were unfastened by anxious fumbling fingertips.

She stretched out on top of him, their bodies pressed together, clothing an inconvenient barrier that he was very tempted to suggest they got rid of. But when he held back she had no such reservations.

"Stay," she breathed as she pushed herself up, shifting her hips against his. She bit her lip as he pushed up against her – leaving her in no doubt about how tempted he was.

"What about Lucia?"

"She gets up very early."

"So do I. Are you sure?" Her eyes were dark, hair falling into her eyes, she caught her bottom lip between her teeth and he stifled a groan with some difficulty.

"This might be one of the those things I'm out of practice at." He ran his thumb over her cheek and she tilted her head into his touch, pressing a kiss to his palm.

"You have nothing to worry about," he told her.

"Then stay."

He waited as she made sure the house was locked up and then, as they climbed the stairs together, he reached for her hand. She looked over at him, smiling and all he could think about was how entirely right this felt.

The End - OK, apart from a fluffy epilogue to follow


	6. Epilogue

A/N - Thanks for the reviews. The fluff is now well and truly out of my system. Normal service will be resumed next week when I get back from Rome.

**Epilogue**

Tony DiNozzo sighed contentedly – life was good. They'd wrapped up a difficult case a couple of hours ago. Gibbs had vanished leaving his loyal St Bernard in charge of completing the paperwork, a task Tony had immediately delegated to the Probie and Ziva – allowing him to spend some quality time with the swim wear issue of his favourite magazine.

But he should have known the peace couldn't last.

"You're pretty," a voice said and when he looked up to see who the voice belonged to he found himself looking into the big blue eyes of a small girl. She was standing by his desk and apparently had been talking to him. Ziva and McGee were stifling laughter, but she didn't seem interested in them as she smiled happily at him. There was no sign of a responsible adult – for all he knew she had appeared out of thin air.

"Where did you come from?"

"I want to be a ballerina," she informed him gravely. "Up," he looked around widely and seeing no sign of rescue he had no choice but to lift her onto his lap. "Why isn't the lady wearing clothes?" She asked looking at the magazine which he rapidly closed.

"Lucia, you're disturbing their work." The little girl was cute – but her mummy was a knockout. She rounded the corner and Tony's jaw almost dropped – legs, curves and red hair. Maybe Gibbs had a point because he certainly wouldn't mind...ow!

"Sorry boss."

Gibbs picked the child, Luica, up and immediately she wrapped her arms round his neck and rubbed noses with him. "You need to develop better taste in men," he told her, though her only response was to giggle.

"We've got a bit of time to work on that," the red head commented. "You ready to go?" Tony and the rest of the team watched, fascinated as Gibbs grabbed his jacket, still holding the child.

"You've got an hour to get those reports to the Director," he said "and that includes you DiNozzo." Then the three of them headed towards the elevator, Lucia waving brightly at him from her place on Gibbs' hip. Tony couldn't help noticing that the boss was also resting his hand on the small of the woman's back - a gesture that implied intimacy and just a little possessiveness.

"I don't believe it," he said as they all disappeared into the elevator together; Ziva and McGee looked just as mystified. "There's no way he managed to slip another wife past us, never mind a kid." But he didn't sound too convinced of that – after all, it was Gibbs.

The End


End file.
